


Sounds Familiar

by Luminos_Bird



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Familiars, Fantasy, Fluff, Genji Shimada is a Little Shit, M/M, Mythical Beings & Creatures, Not what you think, Sacrifice, Scion Hanzo Shimada, Slow Build, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-14
Updated: 2018-07-20
Packaged: 2019-06-10 06:12:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,733
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15285414
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Luminos_Bird/pseuds/Luminos_Bird
Summary: Ever since Hanzo Shimada was a child, he would research all about dragons, unicorns, and other mythical beasts. After researching so much into the topic, he was determined to prove that they were real in some shape or form. He was desperate to get his message of belief out there to those who cared enough to listen.His beliefs weren’t accepted in the Shimada Threshold, knowing he’d be immediately shamed without a hint of hesitance if he told a singular individual in the establishment. Hell, he was the family’s scion. He always posted about his beliefs to his own online audience through an online blog, gaining hundreds of followers throughout time. It was enough to keep him entertained throughout his endless, repeating cycle of being an heir.Although, on August 14th, in the year 2068, something breaks the cycle. Hanzo receives a mysterious message from a user that he doesn’t recall any sort of memory of. The message reads:"If you’re willin’ to give up some stuff of yours to know the truth than I am the man you need. Meet me at The Rusty Kettle on August 20th, an hour before 12. Don’t bring any of those damn guards you have, you’re safe on your own."





	1. Useful

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! I hope you enjoy this read. Do not expect insane fantasy with dragons whizzing around and such because that's not what it is whatsoever. There is plenty of fantasy though, it just isn't intense. Thank you for understanding.

“Ahaha! Don’t tell me you still believe in those ghosts, brother! Com’on, that’s the stuff you kept ranting to me about back when we were just tiny!” The scion's brother cackled, a devilish, cocky flare glinting through his inky pupils that darted along his phone screen.

The upper-class scion’s nostrils flared briefly, the muscles in between his arched, groomed brows tensing sharply. His eyes edged to a slant, agitated by the pesters swelling off his bother of a brother. Every day he had to sit through this shit, being reminded that there’s still a part of his brain has the mindset of a schoolboy.

Another loud, thundering squawk of a laugh echoed throughout Hanzo’s generously large bedroom, coming out from you know who. “Ooh, if the rest of our family finds about this secret blog you’re running, they’re going to shit themselves and you will probably too! Hehe... It would be a shame if I snitched on my oh dearest scion bother dressed in his dumbass suit and tie.”

“Genji!”

“Is the heir scared? Oh, don’t be~. As long as you do some things for me, my lips are sewn shut.”

This wasn’t Hanzo’s first rodeo, he knew what would happen if he shot back with an irresponsible remark. Doing that would merely turn on him in the end, nothing else. He was already embarrassed enough about the fact that he truly believed in mythical beasts, let along that he ran a private blog around the matter, informing his youthful audience about his thoughts and ideas.

Even back when Hanzo Shimada was a young toddler, still learning all there was to learn about the hard life he’d have to balance his strictly restrained mentality on, he has always been engrossed by the world of fantasy. Dragons, mermaids, unicorns, werewolves, vampires, ghouls, griffins, spirits, fairies, and whatever that wasn’t familiar to reality stood in the heir’s mind as reality.

Oh, the irony.

“What is it that you want of me this time, Genji? You want me to clean your bathroom again? What is it,” he questioned, a scowl veiling of over his face that hid a deeper, more immense anger than he was allowed to possess.

“Oh! I guess you can do that too! Was I thinking about you buying some groceries for Angela and me? Yes, I was. I have a whole list here, there are just some snacks we want. On top of that, can you clean my bathroom and my bedroom too? If you do that all I’ll keep my mouth shut~.”

“So you just want me to do your personal chores… Fine. If you keep that trap quiet than I’ll submit,” the elder brother easily accepted the cruel punishment he practically laid on himself.

Hanzo’s built frame shifted his king-size mattress as he stood up swiftly. His short unstyled hair distorted in a disheveled shape bobbed with his stiff movements as he made his way past Genji, who was grinning in victory, towards his closet. Plucking the usual classy attire of a tight fitted, black and blue suit, a white undershirt that had a sharp blue logo printed along its side, a luxurious wrist watch, slick black pants, dress shoes, and a complementary, ecstatic blue tie, he was set for the day.

Still irritated, and always irritated, he shot a piercing glare back towards his young brother perched on the end of his bed who was tapping away at his phone, texting his medic of a girlfriend. His lips compressed into a thin, harsh line, tired of putting up with this shit. “Genji, you can go now. Please.”

“Alright, alright. Damn. Who pissed in your pants,” Genji scoffed, getting up without his eyes once removing from his phone, not even for a millisecond. The only trace of himself he left behind was the grocery list, a small sticky note that stuck its dirty residue all over his brother’s expensive, velvet covers.

As soon as the sliding door clamped shut the entire way, the supposed high-class scion nuzzled his face in between both of his palms, a pain burying through his head like a starved rat searching for food in empty shavings.

Why couldn’t one day just go his way?

Every single day simply stood in the endless pumping cycle that was Hanzo’s life. The same exact pattern of any other day repeated itself over and over in a hypnotic beat. Get up, get picked on by the nuisance, take a shower, get dressed, blog if possible, eat, and so forth.

Nothing changed. Nothing was different. Nothing would change.

A break in the endless cycle would be nice. Even the smallest of change would be refreshing. Hell, even a pet goldfish would excite him at this point. Although, there was no time for any of that unless he wished to sacrifice the only sliver of free time he got out of his entire day’s worth.

During this point in his life, the only activity that made him feel any sort of entertainment and satisfaction was the blog he was running. Honestly, it was the only source of activity that kept him stable.

Glancing down at his phone in hand, Hanzo stared blankly at the home screen of his somewhat populated website. All that normally filled his mind when he stared at this screen was desire and hope. All that was there was an aspiration for an opportunity, an escape rather. Although this time, his heart sunk.

Home | Info | Rules | How To Get Started | Forums | Staff | Profile | Notifications (1)

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Hanzo’s stomach rolled anxiously at the singular number alongside the notification tab, his scrunched eyebrows furrowing even more than they were before. He always got terribly on edge whenever a message awaited him as his private messages were solely open for important emergencies.

His thumb jittered hesitantly, winding upwards to tap onto the notification tab that awaited his entry.

“Shimada,” a loud voice called from one of his stout, loyal guards who stood between the open sliding door. “You’re late for breakfast.”

Hanzo clicked his phone off and stabbed the clean, thin slate of technology into his pocket, eyes fidgeting across the floor before they focused across the sentinel’s tough, scarred glower. “Right. My apologies.”

_

The Rusty Kettle, Genji’s favored supermarket for the snacks his grubby hands lusted for.

Jankity wheels that were loosely screwed into the shopping cart squealed at even the slightest of turns alongside the obnoxious rattling of the metal cage that made up the cart. Bags full of sugary and fatty snacks crinkled, tumbling around as treat after treat was added into the mix. Then there were screaming children that rode in the front seat of some carts screeched, their tiny hands grasping onto expensive phones to watch videos given to them by their ignorant parents. Finally, pesky teenagers yapped on about their days to their friends, destroying the store's inventory through every aisle they trudged through. Everything was so damn noisy.

On the other hand, Hanzo didn’t make a singular peep, unless he happened to pass by an elder and impulsively mutter a small, “excuse me,” before carrying on. He was very cautious, yet he didn’t need to be whatsoever. Maybe it was just the forced maturity that was nailed into him ever since birth or perhaps it could be the natural politeness that made him different from others, but nonetheless, he still kept to himself.

Cocoa chocolate, check.  
Chocolate biscuit sticks, check.  
Coconut wafer rolls, check.  
Cream crackers, check.  
Green tea, unchecked.  
White peached soda, unchecked.  
Bread, check.  
Paper towels, unchecked.

Scanning down the isles, he found nearly everything he needed to purchase that was grossly scribbled onto the hot pink sticky note Genji had left for him. All that was left was the drinks and a restock on the paper towels would wrap up this millionth shopping trip. In the back of his mind, he knew he’d probably have to return to The Rusty Kettle soon because he had a feeling that Genji probably forgot to write something down on the note, as usual.  
Grabbing everything off of the list, the young heir strutted his way to the lengthy checkout aisles, waiting in line behind four other people that had to have their carts practically filled to the ceiling. Biting down on the sigh he’d normally expel, his breath was cut off from the twinkle of something golden attached to the shadowy figure who stood outside, back pressed the front window of the supermarket.

Sparkly. Hanzo thought nothing of it.

Waiting nearly more than a couple minutes, Hanzo’s purchases slid through the scanner and disposed into all natural paper sacks that were able to dispose of healthfully in nature. The total was costly, but he didn’t give two shits. Agile, he swiped Genji’s plastic credit card through the scanner, gathered up the bags, and as swift as he could ever be, exited the rancid establishment.

Sparkly…

While Hanzo made his way through the automatic doorways that sounded as if they were about to collapse at any given second, pure curiosity struck through his senses. His neck swiveled towards the direction that shadowy figure had been standing when he was waiting in line, wondering if it could still be there with it’s pretty, golden bits and bobs.

Nothing was there, all but the somewhat enjoyable fragrance of freshly smoked tobacco leaves rolled up into a tightly packed cigar.

A small grin flickered it’s way across the scion’s dry lips for a brisk moment before fading off. His stance was tight and straight beneath the dark night’s shadow that cast over the entirety of Hanamura, Japan. Just another sighting to document to his blog.

_

New Post! :

Uploaded on 11:21 PM, August 14th, the Year 2068  
@The_Blue_Eastern_Dragon  
Rank: Admin  
Title: Paranormal Sighting at The Rusty Kettle  
Text:

While waiting in line at The Rusty Kettle, I noticed something standing outside pressed up against the front window of the store. The figure was super shadowy so I’m not definite what it was, but it had a smoke effect to its form. There was something golden and shiny along it’s build, but I thought nothing of it other than, "Hey, that’s a pretty shiny object."

After I finished checking out, I went outside and found that nothing was no longer there. Although there was a trace of some sort of tobacco smell in the air, I think. I’m not sure, I’m not familiar with smoking. I think it smells kind of comforting…

I believe this presentation isn’t a Memento Mori, but a sign of something coming up in the near future. I hope that it’s friendly and I hope to see this figure once more. I still feel comfort by its presence, nothing evil was felt.

 

Comments (2):

@Anonymous: Darlin’, I bet it’s got something for you.  
Likes: 0  
-Reply:

@The_Blue_Eastern_Dragon: When anonymous users call me “darlin’”: [Dragon Emoji] [Fire Emoji]  
Likes: 4

Hanzo snickered to himself as he laid in his heated, reassuring bed, a place where he spent most of his time unconscious, but a place where he gained the most delight. One of his slender hands kept a tight clutch around his phone while the other crept folded against his cheek, eyes continuously scanning along new posts made by the members of his small community.

Right after reading all the novelty posts created by the active members, he resorted back to the home page. Staring blankly, his tired, dry orbs surveyed the aesthetically pleasing layout that one of his moderators once coded for him as a gift.

Home | Info | Rules | How To Get Started | Forums | Staff | Profile | Notifications (1)

The man’s stomach gagged at the sight, realizing he hadn’t read the message that anticipated for his attention, a message that was sent probably from the night before while he was sound asleep, a message that was an emergency.

High-strung, Hanzo immediately pressed his thumb hard against the Notifications button, eager to read the message that had been waiting ever so patiently in his inbox all night and day. He hoped to dear life that it wasn’t anything urgent.

 

New Message! :

Sent on 1:04 AM, August 14th, 2068  
@Man_On_A_Mission To You, The_Blue_Eastern_Dragon  
Title: Useful  
Text:  
To Hanzo Shimada,

If you’re willin’ to give up some stuff of yours to know the truth than I am the man you need. Meet me at The Rusty Kettle on August 20th, an hour before 12. Don’t bring any of those damn guards you have, you’re safe on your own

I hope you come.

From,  
@Man_On_A_Mission

Replies: 0

Hanzo’s breathing made a keen halt the second his name was mentioned in the opening phrase, unknowing on how this user he had no recollection of knowing his true identity. Never once had he leaked his name online, let alone in his own blog that he was desperate to keep a secret from the entirety of the Shimada Castle. How on earth was this possible?

All this effort, trying to make his identity online unknown. From changing the way he would normally talk in real life to type out brand new posts on the daily to not including his name in anything anywhere socially, to never uploading pictures of himself, and never once giving out his location, he had slipped somewhere.

Somewhere he cracked his secret, and it was all his fault.

Anywho... The rest of the message scared the shit out of him as well.

What the hell did, “willin’ to give up on some stuff,” mean exactly? Merely gathering himself to The Rusty Kettle to meet this mysterious online figure was already giving up plenty than he was comfortable with. Why couldn’t he bring his guards to protect him? Why at lunchtime, why not at night? Why at that specific location? Was he going to be swept off his feet? Who the hell is @Man_On_A_Mission !?

So many questions zapped and zipped through Hanzo’s brain as he scrunched himself up into a protective ball on his amply large bed. On the edge of throwing up, he could feel something scutter in the back of his throat, causing him to hack and cough harshly several times.

Hanzo Shimada couldn’t recall of the last time he had been this miserably paranoid. He really was a child, wasn’t he?


	2. Remember

Three days remained.

Glass bowls bonded with a chiming ring against high-priced, painted, ancient silverware. Utensils repeatedly pierced and picked through a mixture of frigid lettuce draped across vegetables and gloriously cooked golden fish before being scooped into the spoiled mouths of Shimada royalty.

Abruptly, a harsh crack smacked against Hanzo’s slouched back, sending him to release a faint yelp as his shoulders jolted upwards out of his own control. He was caught off guard for the first time in a long while, probably ever since he was still “flourishing” in his youth.

“Shimada, you know better than to hunch like that in the middle of our feast,” his father’s snarled lips barked out, causing one hell of a commotion from family members huddled around the table. Everyone seemed to be secretly checking to make sure their posture was straight enough to the man’s standards, all having a slight fear of the consequences if caught.

“I apologize, father. I promise that it will not happen again,” Hanzo spoke clearly. From then on, his conscience reminded him to be hyper-aware of every action he made, just in case if there was any more roaring to devour him whole as dessert for later.

“You’re piss poor, son. I apologize for my ass. Why can’t you learn a thing or two from Genji?! Take a look at your younger brother sitting across from you. He actually has manners!” The scion’s father grunted loudly, his hands clamping onto the sides of Hanzo’s head to forcefully direct his vision onto the miniature devil that sat behind the eye’s of Genji.

Noisy laughter sprang up from each family member, all having to seal a hand over their mouths stuffed full of the gunk food scraps. Couples shared small glances at each other as chuckles road out across their nasty tongue while some barely could control tears welling out from their eyes because of how hard they were laughing. They weren’t laughing at Hanzo, they were laughing at the fact that the man claimed that Genji had manners. Hanzo wanted to snicker at the matter too, but his lip was to busy quivering from being afraid of what his father was going to spout out next.

“Where did all of that teaching we served to as a child go, hm?”

“I still have it, father. I apologize, seriously. I still exercise my mind with topics I had learned back then to this very day. I merely slipped up. I accept whatever punishment you have to offer, father,” Hanzo replied, not a trace of sounding afraid or intimidated dared to cut between his words. He was good at controlling himself, even if he was thrashing about on the inside and wishing he could shove those words all the way back down his father’s throat.

“That’s what I like to hear! Accept your fate,” the man spoke in his gravelly voice, a sense of satisfaction sparking in, being the aftermath of his fine victory. “No more food for you as of tonight. Give it to your brother, Hanzo. You will stay put until each and every one of us has finished each course served to us! That is your punishment.”

Hanzo could’ve sworn he felt a spray of saliva hit against his face, his bent nose wrinkling from the god-awful scent of breath that followed after his parent’s griping.

Finally, the hands that were crumpling up the young heir’s hair into his squished cranium were finally released, allowing his nagging headache to breathe for a second or two. He couldn’t take it much longer, but he was forced to obey or else his head might be crushed for good.

Silently, Hanzo pushed his platters that were still occupied by plenty of grub in front of the sparrow’s half-eaten meal, replacing the green haired boy’s neutral expression with a filthy grin instead. That wicked mask of a grin his brother painted across his face always stirred Hanzo’s stomach upside down, despising the reminder that Genji was miserably spoiled for no logical reason other than it was the fault of his own damn mistakes.

“Why thank you, Hanzo. More importantly, thank you, father,” Genji cooed out while his long, pretty lashes batted over the frozen windows to his rotten soul. It was clear as day that he was self-aware that he was spoiled, and it was even more clear that he loved every ounce of it.

From then on, dinner resumed and went uninterrupted, not a single member of the Shimada clan daring to come off like a fool as Hanzo had displayed for them earlier. Small talk was exchanged across the table, stories about recent events coming through their mouths as if the news channel had flickered on. The young master didn’t venture to intervene with the small talk, knowing that’d just present him with more accidental punishments. He knew better than to take such a hefty risk.

After roughly fifteen minutes of waiting passed by, he came to the conclusion that it would probably be another hour or two of sitting he’d have to wait through until he could return to the comforts of his bed for rest. Over the years, Hanzo had learned that it was better to think that listen to the chatter of his family, and with that thought in mind, that’s exactly what he delved into.

The sacrifice was immediately the first topic in line that arose to his thoughts. It was a mysterious concept that had to prick up the hairs on the back of neck ever since he read the message. Swear to god, he had reviewed that message dozens of times, trying to find any source of a clue to what that sacrifice could be. To his knowledge, there were no clues, no time to think. It was all up for his own interpretation.

His intellect brewed and bubbled with endless possibilities. Perhaps the sacrifice would be a contract he’d have to sign with his very own blood to join some sort of fantasy gang he’d be forced into. What if the sacrifice was too risky? Would he do something so incredibly dangerous just to have validation that his childhood imagination was a part of reality? What if the sacrifice was just a setup and the whole thing was a big scam? Maybe there was no sacrifice at all and it was just something to get on his nerves. Possibly, the sacrifice could have something to do with someone or a group of people. 

Then it hit him. The Shimada Clan.

That conviction made more sense to him than any other hypothesis he had come up with earlier, even more than the idea that it was a scam. Why wouldn’t someone want something from the Shimada clan? It would be foolish of someone with valuable information to not bribe a young member of the clan for something that they have been seeking. That is unless they were a higher rank of wealth and success and could thrive without any chunk of the Shimada Clan.

More questions sprouted from there. Would Hanzo exactly mind if the sacrifice he, himself would make could potentially put his family in dangerous territory? Would he truly care if it costed the clan?

His eyes fell back into focus, landing straight onto Genji’s brimming plate full of freshly cooked foods that were being stuffed into his mouth like a squirrel packing it’s huge, fat cheeks. 

First, Hanzo reflected off the many times his brother treated him like garbage, however, there were far too many of those instances that he could think of without worsening his pounding headache. Nearly every single morning he was threatened by him, being ordered to do daily tasks that just ate up his time that he could’ve spent to himself. There were too many instances where this same old routine happened, and the young heir had grown sick of it ever since it first happened. Genji meant nothing to Hanzo other than the fact that he is an extreme hazard to his reputation. Nothing more.

Then, he thought about his father who nailed specific skills and disgusting mindsets into him ever since he was old enough to comprehend words and sentences. He was given hundreds of lessons by many teachers; lessons that consisted of how to constantly speak fluent formal Japanese, how to paint, how to keep a constant good posture, how to be stealthy, how to clean and sharpen blades, how to clothe yourself properly, and many more. He found each lesson despicable, all of them being that he couldn’t give to shits about without the exception of a few (how to be stealthy, how to clean and sharpen blades, etc.). Without a doubt, every lesson was handpicked by his father, making it even worse because the teachers were given a set of instructions on how to punish him if he failed or misbehaved. His father seemed to always treat him like an object. There was no respect, only manhandling.

Finally, Hanzo considered the Shimada Clan as a whole individual being. The clan was a being that paid no help to him even in his most dire situations. Whenever he got in trouble he was cursed and laughed at, no aid was ever suggested let alone given to him. It almost seemed as if he was a form of entertainment to some of the members of the family, being tossed around and teased with for the sake of their own amusement.

He couldn’t stand it for any longer, there had to be a way out. Whether that way out would be through killing, snitching, giving away large amounts of cash, he’d do whatever it would take. All he wanted was to be free and learn something new that he actually enjoyed. 

He wanted to be free.

“Damn,” Hanzo thought silently to himself. He then came to the realization that now he had pinned his hopes on that the sacrifice had to have something to do with the Shimada Clan. Was the reason behind that simply because he was seeking revenge or did he want to get out that badly? He didn’t know. All he knew is that there was a sacrifice that he’d make.

_

One day remained.

No longer was the sacrifice something he was creating a fuss about in his head, but more so now- he was going insane about the person who was behind this whole shady scheme.

After all these days of thinking, he couldn’t comprehend how someone found out his online identity and connected it to the one he possessed in real life. He didn’t understand who this person on the other side could possibly be either! Most of all, he couldn’t wrap his head around why he was given this offer in the first place. 

An uneasiness stirred within Hanzo’s entire body as he gazed into the oval flame caressed by the oily wick of a wood wick candle. A warm, yet dim golden glow glittered across his scrunched and pinched up face, it’s luminosity spreading across his complexion like a thin blanket of translucent silk fresh out of the drier. Everything in the scion’s bedroom felt so hot, but his chest, legs, and wrists felt like they were sinking into an endless pit of nothing but cold ice.

Tense in the bed suited for a king, the skittish man rolled back his shoulder blades and dug them deep into the pillow behind him. He puffed out a heavy sigh, eyes unfolding to gaze up at the dead black ceiling looming over his body.

Ever since that message had been sent days ago, Hanzo could’ve sworn he had been feeling a spectral figure wavering back into his life. The spirit was something that his care could only and has only ever latched onto. The soul was held by someone close to his heart, someone he thought he could never forget, but it turns out he did… 

He forgot about her for ten years. 

The family business had scratched out this person he cared for the last ten years, but now this heartwarming essence he missed so badly was making a comeback and it was charging at him full on.

The candlelight blaze sizzled out abruptly, attracting Hanzo’s thoughts to go blank.  
Suddenly, a glob of thick saliva was caught in the back of Hanzo’s throat, forcing his upper half to lurch towards, his hands clasping tightly around his neck in a desperate fashion. His throat prickled and itched madly, uncontrollably making him hack up heavy amounts of nothing but air and small spittles of saliva. No breath was coming through. He couldn’t catch his breath.

A loud crack sounded through the room, glittery pieces of shattered glass chiming across his hardwood flooring like dust flying off from an old ceiling fan. Then, a bitter breath of fresh air coiled through and across his body, creeping up his bedsheets like an endless body of water swallowing him up.

Out from the corner, Hanzo’s his squinted, spinning eyes, hands still desperately tied around his neck out of being frozen in utter fear, a flushed blue light fluttered brightly. The light seemed to be twinkling around where the deepest and most darkness corner of his room, the place where his dusty, probably somewhat broken, Storms Bow has sat, untouched for ten years.

It hit him. His mother… but why? Why would she come back into his life at this time? What gives?

He then thought for a moment.

Starting on his fifth birthday, Hanzo Shimada studied and practiced archery with an emotionally passionate determination. The only reason behind his passion was not because of his father’s lousy encouragement, but from his own encouragement. He told to himself to following in his mother’s footsteps to make her proud in the heavens above.

In Hanzo’s heart, she’s the one who truly defends him in deathly fights and the one that keeps him calm even in the worst arguments.

Hanzo’s trembling body rumbled on his bed, purely afraid at this point. He could smell her cherry blossom fragrance flowing like the scent of fresh rain in his bedroom. The bed sheets beneath his bare legs felt like the fabric to the dresses she use to wear every day when she came by and visited to play with him in her only free time. That was the only time he got to be around his mother before she was swept off to missions to defend the Shimada Clan’s family name with her scary arrows.

“Hanzo, darling… Do not fret, sweetheart. It is only your mom. Don’t you remember me, the little assassin to my heart?” A fond, familiar voice sang out, as smooth as butter.

Shocked, Hanzo stuttered his reply, “w-... Why is this all happening to me, mother? Are you... Are you here?”

“Oh, you poor precious thing. I’m so sorry. If I were still there we’d have run away by now… But guess what? An opportunity is waiting for you. I’m so excited for you, little assassin. You know what is best, okay?”

“Mom?”

“Yes, son?”

“I love you and I miss you.”

“I love and miss you too.”

Just at the climax of the snugly feeling, a feeling as if he was swathed in warm towels cradled up in his mother’s arms was at it very peeks, it slowly began to fade away, as well as the azure light.

Hanzo’s hands unfolded from around his neck and draped down to his sides, wrapping the smooth fabrics of his blankets around his arms and cuddling them tightly. A frown was compressed upon his lips, his head unexpectedly feeling as if two cymbals were crushing his brain into a gooey concoction. 

“Hanzo… Hanzo~. Hanzo! You truly are a child, aren’t you?! Wake the hell up! You’re drooling all over yourself and it’s way past the normal time you usually get up at! Get up already!”

Hanzo’s eyes exploded open to the blaring noise of his brother’s whining. At the sight of the green haired prick hovering over and staring down at him with a ghoulish smile, a deep sadness, yet a deep understanding painfully too washed through his body in one swift swipe.

“Grh. Shut up, Genji... I could barely get any sleep last night,” Hanzo sharply replied, trying to restrain himself from snapping in front of his brothers face even though it was terribly tempting.

The younger of the two cocked his head and teasingly stuck out his tongue for a moment. He then carried on, not caring about anything that Hanzo would say in response, “looks like the baby didn’t have a good nap, hmm? Well, I did. I fell asleep so~ good after me and Angela... Haha, you know. Or do you know, queer?”

Hanzo sat up, trying to blur Genji out from his focus as much as he could as he took a gander at the clock.

9 PM.

“Genji, I simply do not have the time for this as of now. If it were any other day, I would sit here and bicker with you explaining that I do know what sex is, but right now, I have business to do. I will get your snacks after I’m done and I will clean your room and your bathroom after dinner tonight as well. Please be patient with me,” Hanzo snapped in a harsh, strict tone, sounding more like his sassy step-mother than anything.

That sure as hell left a mark on the scion’s brother because nothing was uttered after that no other than the blank stare he kept on Hanzo getting ready for the day.

_

Hanzo Shimada had decided a more casual attire was much more appropriate for this meeting with the unknown man. His short hair was styled in somewhat of a fluffy, normal look while his outfit screamed “can’t you see that I’m exhausted?! I wanna wear comfy clothes today!”.

It was rare when he got to wear a soft outfit like this, but he was thankful that he was finally able to once more in his life. The fresh, cool breeze that intertwined between his black locks of hair and the way it breathed through his loose shirt made him feel so comfortable, despite the fact he was going to meet someone who could practically be a stalker.

Step by step, getting closer to The Rusty Kettle by every foot he took, his heartbeat picked up a notch with each second that flew by. Everything felt like it was going by so fast, he didn’t like it.

Behold, The Rusty Kettle.

Hanzo stood there alongside the automatic doors, silently gazed from left to right, and came to the realization that he wasn’t sure of what the person looked like of who he was trying to spot or specifically where.

For some odd reason, that caused the Shimada to snicker softly, but he promptly shooed that grin off his face and moved inside, deciding that the person would eventually find him as he went shopping.

Extending an arm out to grab a shopping cart, it jerked under his grip by a hard force that immediately quit. Hanzo’s eyes shot over to the other end of the cart, and noticed gloved hand prying off the cart… His eyes trailed up that arm, seeing a weird tattoo, then up farther to shoulders that were covered by a heavy crimson “cloak”? He wasn’t sure. Anyways.

Finally, past the small scruff, he reached the golden flecked eyes that made Hanzo’s legs nearly give out beneath his weight.

“Well shoot! There you are! And for a second I thought you weren’t gonna show.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just something I forgot to say in the first chapter: I do have a Tumblr, but I don't use it as much as I use Deviantart! Nevertheless, my user on both platforms is luminos-bird. I hope this chapter was okay! I plan to update frequently if I can.


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